CHAPTER FOUR

IT WAS mid-morning when the furniture van arrived.

“Careful, Snowy!” Zack warned his young offsider as they tried to manoeuvre a sofa through the small doorway.

It was clear Snowy wasn’t listening, or he had no aptitude for these activities.

“Steady on, boy!” Zack shouted the caution. “Miss Laura here ain’t gunna be happy if you knock a chunk out of the front door.”

“Won’t go in, Zack. The bloody doorway’s too narrow,” Snowy offered miserably.

“Language, son. No need to swear.” Zack cast an embarrassed glance at Laura as though she had never heard a single swear-word in her life.

“Sorry, miss.” Snowy made a distraught movement of his ash-blond head.

“Put it down for a minute,” Zack said crossly, his temper still simmering from yesterday. Snowy was always breaking something—forcing it. He still had a lump on his head the size of a plum from yesterday’s mishap with a wardrobe—but Snowy was the wife’s nephew. A more than usually stubborn boy, with not all the cards in the pack. Took after his dad’s side of the family, of course…

“Having problems?” Evan Thompson appeared on the open verandah of the colonial next door, looking the very picture of the legendary alpha man.

“You could say that!” Zack replied with sarcasm.

“Give me a minute; I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, mate!” Zack called back more cheerfully. A smart guy like Evan would make this manoeuvre the easiest thing imaginable.

Evan waved a response then went back to the phone, finishing off his progress report to the agent who was eager to market his book.

Moments later he pushed the little picket gate of the cottage. It needed to be open. Who had closed it? Laura was standing on the tiny porch wearing a little ruffled yellow sundress that made a pool of light. Her long silky hair was drawn back into a knot, exposing her pretty ears, delicate bone structure and the long lovely line of her throat.

“Good morning!” A day and already he was far too involved with this young woman. Certainly his eyes had fallen in love with her beauty. The fatal flaw in him: his susceptibility to beauty.

“Good morning, Evan,” she responded, so happily it touched his iron-clad heart. “It’s so nice of you to come.”

“I’d have been here earlier, only I had to field a few calls. So what’s the problem, Zack?”

Zack gave him a frustrated look. “Snowy here don’t seem capable of negotiating the front door.”

“Yah’d better believe it!” said Snowy, treading backwards and bumping into the planter’s chair he had already placed on the porch.

“I’d be real grateful if yah could take his end, Evan.” Zack snorted his disgust.

“No problem.” Evan had solved it on sight.

“Not my idea to be a removalist,” Snowy defended himself, relinquishing his end without argument. “I told Mum but she called me a lazy bum. That’s exactly what she said, ‘Snowy, you’re a lazy bum.’”

Evan laughed. “And you’re saying that’s not the case?”

“I wish she’d listen.” Snowy’s voice dropped dolefully as he watched the two men make short work of getting the sofa through the narrow doorway.

“Make yahself useful, Snowy.” Zack took a couple of beats to yell at him. “Go get the little stuff.”

“I’ll help you, Snowy,” Laura said, anxious to be useful herself, and sorry for the unfortunate young man.

“That’s okay, miss.” Snowy lost his gloomy look, going a bright pink under his freckled tan. “I don’t want you doin’ nuthin’. Besides, Zack is takin’ yah money.”

 

“Well, well, you made quite a conquest with Snowy,” Evan observed some thirty minutes later as the furniture van pulled away. “He’s got a giant crush on you already.”

“I think I believe you!” Laura paused in her rearranging to smile. “He doesn’t seem at all suited to help Zack out in the business.”

“From what Zack told me he’s been responsible for some major damage,” Evan answered dryly. “As a removalist Snowy seems a complete incompetent. I wonder if he could find work on one of the outlying stations. From all accounts he’s very good around horses. He told me he loves to be outdoors. I might have a word with Mitch Claydon. The Claydons—you’ll be meeting them—own Marjimba cattle station. The McQueens have always stuck to sheep—Australia produces the world’s finest wool—but Wunnamurra is only a small part of their business interests these days. They’re big. I can tell you that. You’ve heard about the McQueens from Sarah?”

“Not a lot.” Laura settled a few cushions on the sofa, looked around for his approving nod. “Sarah has been too busy listening to me. I’ve met Kyall twice, when he’s called in to the house. What a splendid couple they make! Very obviously he’s deeply in love with Sarah, and she with him. But a few odd comments around the place have made me wonder if there’s some secret family business. Sarah keeps hinting I might hear something soon.”

“Well, then…” He shrugged, pushing a small bookcase against the wall. “It’s no secret Sarah doesn’t get on with Kyall’s grandmother, Ruth McQueen.”

“I gathered that. She’s a formidable lady?”

“That doesn’t say it.” His handsome mouth compressed. Ruth McQueen, matriarch of that powerful family had all but repelled him on their few encounters. In her seventies and still a striking-looking woman; it was more to do with her aura. He’d met people like Ruth McQueen in his other life. Ruthless people. People one didn’t cross with impunity.

“But Sarah will be part of the family?” Laura turned as she spoke, making a forlorn little gesture with her hands.

“Yes,” he agreed—like Laura, thinking of its implications. He let his eyes linger on her. He had to realize he was becoming too protective of her on some deep elemental level. Maybe it was her size. He towered over her. Maybe it was her inherent sensitivity, her vulnerability?

“Sarah did tell you she and Kyall have been bonded since childhood? Apparently it’s been quite a love story. Everyone in town knows about it. I expect you do too.”

“We haven’t really caught up. Sarah’s determined to help me.”

“Do what?”

“Find my feet, I suppose.” She sank onto the deep yellow sofa, colourful crushed velvet cushions piled all around her. “Sarah is such a strong person. I’m very wobbly compared to her.”

He shifted the coffee table a fraction, then took the armchair opposite her. His back was to the sunshine that streamed into the room. It danced around her in golden beams. “We’ve all got wobbly areas, Laura. I think Sarah, for all her inner strength, carries a few burdens. She’ll have them for some time while Ruth McQueen is around.”

“But in the end the most tremendous thing is she’ll have Kyall’s love and support. One only has to see them together to know their marriage will work.”

“And you’re very fearful yours won’t?”

“What do you mean?” Her heart suddenly pounded, though she did her best to hide her agitation.

“I thought that was clear,” he answered mildly, thoroughly aware of the change in her. “For whatever reasons you’re fleeing your own relationship. Obviously you don’t trust your boyfriend enough to marry him. He mustn’t provide you with a sense of security. Or you don’t love him enough. Do you?” The look he aimed at her was very direct.

Flustered, she looked away. “I thought I did. Once. He put so much into our courtship. Showered me with gifts.”

My God, wouldn’t that be easy? Showering this beautiful creature with gifts. “Well, he wasn’t getting a bad bargain,” he gently mocked.

“A beautiful, gifted wife in the making.”

“He didn’t make me feel that.”

“So why didn’t you confront him with it?” He frowned. “Why did you continue the relationship at all?”

She clasped her ringless hands together. “I can’t find the answers.”

“You’re very young, Laura. You’re only in the process of becoming the woman you’re going to be. Why do you think people make so many mistakes when they’re young? Living is all about the getting of wisdom.”

She took a quiet breath, nodded. “At least I’m beginning to see more clearly. I lost the protection of my father,” she added poignantly

“Protection?” His head went up and a glitter invaded his dark eyes.

“I haven’t been terribly clever with my life up to date, Evan. You’ve surmised that, I desperately needed good advice, but as it happened there was a lack of it. I’d like to be stronger, more able to defend myself, but it won’t happen overnight. I need time to change my world and my position in it. Most of my friends always were far more sophisticated than I. My friend Ellie used to have a little running joke about me being the Sleeping Beauty.”

“Evidently you haven’t found your prince?”

“Are there princes in this world?” All at once she knew there were. The woman this man loved would find a safe haven, a powerful benign presence. Solidity.

“My answer is yes, Laura. You told me you adored your father. Weren’t your parents happy?”

“Wonderfully happy,” she sighed. “My father was the kindest man in the world. He was marvellous.”

“Why can’t you talk to your mother?”

“She lives in New Zealand. She married a sheep farmer a few years after we lost Dad. She had one happy marriage. She wanted another. My mother can’t live without a man.”

“Wouldn’t most women want to be in a relationship?”

“Better to be on one’s own than unhappy.”

“So why endure a relationship that’s not working? What’s the worst thing about this boyfriend of yours? I don’t hear his name.”

“I can’t talk about him yet, Evan.” Even Colin’s name made her feel in insecure.

“Okay. But you’ve confided in Sarah? You need someone to talk to?”

“Sarah is another woman and she’s very understanding. I consider myself very lucky to have her for a friend.”

“How long have you known her?”

She’d have liked to say for ages, but she had to tell the truth. “A year, on and off.”

“And here I was thinking you’d known one another for ever.”

“Getting to know someone in a day isn’t all that impossible.” She knew she held his dark gaze longer than she should. “You think people are going to be one thing and they turn out to be quite another.”

“I assume you’re referring to me?”

She couldn’t say she was referring to her Jekyll and Hyde husband. She evaded the answer. “How did you get to be as tough as you are?” She couldn’t find the precise word, but there was nothing remotely soft about him. He was very much the man. The man of steel.

“Tough?” He sounded unconvinced.

“You carry that image. I don’t mean tough as in rough.” She coloured a little. “Certainly not. I mean able to meet challenges head-on. To be a resilient, functioning, strong individual who can handle whatever life throws at you.”

He laughed without humour, remembering how it was. “Laura, it was a big struggle. I have my moments of inner devastation.”

“But you carry on?” She couldn’t leave this question of personal inner strength alone. She carried so much self-disgust at the punishment she had taken during her short marriage.

He saw her eyes, beautiful, haunted. “Why are you so unhappy? It can’t be simply a fear of plunging into marriage with the wrong person?”

She pulled a sapphire blue cushion onto her lap. “Have you ever been in love, or felt or thought you were in love?”

His mouth quirked. “I figure at thirty-eight I must have been.”

“And the woman I resemble?”

The sombre expression was back in place. “You don’t resemble her at all. A figure-type—petite and slender. The way you wear your hair.” He wanted to reach over and pull her hair out of its loose knot, watch its silken slide around her romantic face.

“You were in love with her?”

“Questions, questions!”

“If you can ask them so can I.”

“I was in love with the woman I thought she was. She was never that person,” he said, his eyes disturbingly dark.

“I’m sorry.” She was afraid that woman had badly hurt him. “So, has it taken a long time for you to become involved with anyone else?”

His deep attractive voice was full of amusement. “I certainly don’t intend becoming involved with you, miss.”

“I know that.” Yet something in his eyes made her head whirl. “I’m not planning any involvements for a very long time. Maybe never. We’re two people who escaped out here to breathe.”

“Exactly.” His tone was calm.

“It’s extraordinary the way I feel free to talk to you.” By doing so she felt she was helping herself.

“What’s your boyfriend’s profession?” he surprised her by asking.

“He’s a doctor.” The words were uttered; too late to take them back.

“Am I hearing correctly? A doctor?” He frowned. “I would have thought a doctor would be an understanding person. Caring for people is what their calling is all about. For most of them it’s very important. I’ve known some heroic doctors in my time.”

They weren’t about inflicting cruelty and pain, Laura thought.

In front of his eyes her whole demeanour altered. “Do you doubt your ability to carry off the role of doctor’s wife?”

She gave a restless little shake of her head. “It could be I’m not fit to be a wife at all.”

“Stop putting yourself down. You shouldn’t do it.”

“Lots of things I shouldn’t be doing, Evan.” She sighed and tried to smile. “Like sitting here with you when we should be up working.”

“I can take care of the work.” He stood up, filling the small parlour with his sheer presence. “I can tell you one thing, Laura. You don’t need anyone in your life who remorselessly drains off all your self-confidence.”

“I’ll have to start thinking like you. I might take up judo or karate.”

“Power, kiddo? Is that what you’re hoping to achieve?” He laughed, looking down at her ethereal frame.

“If I were stronger I might be more in control,” she said, very seriously. “I think my image is much too soft and dreamy. It speaks of weakness.”

“Nonsense! I’d stick to your image, if I were you. It’s perfectly beautiful. Surely you couldn’t fail to know that?”

“Sarah is beautiful, but one senses immediately she’s strong. I so admire her.”

“Laura, my dear, you are simply too hard on yourself. Possibly you’ve allowed yourself to be brainwashed. Is the boyfriend a fitness freak?”

She grimaced a little. “Yes, but he doesn’t have a black belt.” Otherwise he might have killed me.

“I do,” he said casually. “I was always interested in the martial arts. I like the discipline, austerity, mastering difficult techniques and working on the concentration that’s needed. Overall it’s a great feeling of achievement. In my early days one of my workout partners was a young girl. I was terrified I would hurt her. She was tiny. Like you. By the end of the class I had nothing but respect for her. She was a whirlpool of energy. I know I left the class pretty sore.”

“Can you teach me?” Suddenly she was presented with an idea.

“I’d rather not.” He didn’t want to get too physically close to her for any number of reasons. Number one being his strong sexual attraction to her. He couldn’t do a damned thing about it. Little Miss Graham was way off-limits.

“That’s the first mean thing you’ve said.”

“Laura, I could scarcely bear to hurt you,” he groaned. Didn’t she know how she looked? So fragile, so graceful in her movements. It was the last thing he wanted but he felt a sharp stab of desire.

“May I remind you of your little sparring partner?”

“She’d long been in training,” he clipped off. “You might feel very differently if you were to go flying through the air. Falls can be very painful.”

“Then can you show me a few moves?” Her fear of Colin had been greatly compounded by his physical superiority. Would he have been so free with his hands had she been able to strike back?

He pressed a hand to his strong jawline. “I’ll think about it. Demons are in your head, Laura,” he told her ruefully. “You can vanquish them using mind control.”

“I’d feel better if you could show me a few defensive moves.”

He stared down at her, vaguely astonished. He couldn’t handle the thought of hurting her.

“You’d show a younger sister, wouldn’t you?” she challenged, green eyes sparkling. “Or your favourite female cousin?”

“Let me think about it, Laura,” he replied.

“I used to study ballet, you know,” she offered, as if that would help.

“That’s a hell of a start.”

“Ballet dancers are very strong and athletic. I was very good, but I had to stop when I was about fourteen. I didn’t have the time with my music.”

Her appearance was even at odds with her piano-playing, though he knew size could be deceptive. The one time they had shaken hands her fingers had been long, delicate, but they had to be strong.

“By the way, its no problem to get you access to the town’s grand piano,” he said, knowing how much a musician needed constant contact with their chosen instrument. “It was a gift from the McQueen family. No second-rate instrument. A Steinway.”

“Good grief, how generous.” She stood a foot away, petals of colour in her magnolia cheeks.

“Yes, indeed,” he agreed dryly. “Sing out when you’re ready. For now, let’s tackle the kitchen. I’ll help you unpack those boxes.”

“Evan, you’ve been so kind. I can finish up.”

“I’ll get things out of the boxes for you. You won’t want them in your way. And I’ll get them back to Zack. This is going to be quite pretty, actually.” He looked about. “A doll’s house for a French doll.”

“Who’s going to learn karate!” She struck a little pose, clean, balletic, extremely beautiful.

“I ask myself, how did I get myself into this?”

“Stop puzzling over it. Maybe it was meant to be. Can you shoot?”

“I hate guns,” he said harshly.

“Then you’re used to them. You know what they can do.”

“Young lady, there is no way I’m going to show you how to handle a rifle. It’s against the law.”

“Unless one has a licence. There are a lot of licences out here in the Outback.”

“Laura, what are you getting at?” She was leading the way to the kitchen but he found himself catching the point of her shoulder, turning her to him.

“I’m pretty sure a lot of women would feel safer if they had a gun.”

“I’m pretty sure a lot of lives could be lost that way as well. You don’t need any gun.”

“I don’t want one. I hate them too.”

“Please look me in the eye.”

“Yes, Evan.” She lifted her head.

“You can’t really believe your life’s in danger?”

“Of course it isn’t. Probably I was trying to shock you.”

“Believe me, you have.”

“Okay, I’m done.” She stared into the brilliant dark depths of his eyes, wishing desperately she had nothing to hide.

“Good.” Abruptly he moved, before he made the fatal mistake of taking her into his arms. “Let’s get cracking.”

He led her into the kitchen where several boxes were stacked. He knew they contained a dinner set, cutlery, pots and pans, electrical goods, a frypan, toaster, kettle, kitchen linen, glasses marked “Fragile”.

“Don’t lift that one,” he said, pointing downwards. “It’s too heavy.”

“You have to stop looking at me like I’m a piece of porcelain,” she said. “Not very complimentary to me.”

“But understandable,” he said dryly, allowing his eyes to move over her.

“Well, I’m not. You should hear me thunder out Chopin’s Revolutionary Etude.”

He was acutely aware of her slender body resting against the counter so near to him. The whiteness of her skin made her gleaming hair appear almost black. Her green eyes shimmered like jewels. There was no question the boyfriend was madly in love with her. He himself was staggered by the level of intimacy he had achieved with this troubled young woman.

“The spirit, no doubt, Laura. It’s an inner power true musicians have.”

The sound of his deep voice touched her clear through to her centre. It reverberated like a deep, deep purr, reminding her that the human voice was the greatest instrument of all.

For total strangers they’d had a great deal to say to each other. Ships that passed in the night? Brief encounters? Intuitively she understood that behind the complex exterior was a gallantry a woman could count on. After a year of brutal punishment it was like a marvellous healing balm.